


Twenty Four Days of Ficmas

by LadyLondonderry



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Cats, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Elves, Ice Skating, Kid Fic, M/M, Magic-Users
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-16
Updated: 2015-12-31
Packaged: 2018-05-07 00:48:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 12,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5437244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyLondonderry/pseuds/LadyLondonderry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Twenty four days of One Direction Christmas ficlets! </p><p>Get ready for large amounts of Christmas tooth-rotting fluff. Evles! Meet-cutes! Large amounts of hot chocolate, light dustings of snow, and several boys that may or may not make Santa's nice list!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The snow is in heavy flurries, making it difficult to see the far end of the train station.

All Harry wanted was an indoor platform.

He shivers in his thin winter coat. He’s never been good at finding winter clothes, always forgetting when he goes shopping to get something not just large, but _warm_. So, he’s layered up. Shirt, vest, hoodie, coat and here he is, still terribly cold. He’s pretty sure his hair is turning white with snow.

He finally spots the train, and breathes a sigh of relief. He’ll be able to feel his toes again! Hols seem much brighter when he can envision the imminent future of a warm seat, and an outlet to charge his phone.

The train pulls to a stop and Harry waits impatiently for the passengers to file off, hopping from foot to foot in anticipation of the warm cabin. He’s at a tiny station out in the middle of nowhere, why are so many people filing off this damn train? When there’s finally a break, he makes a run for it, bags in hand, and heads for the cabin that the ticket says holds his seat.

The cabin is only one over from where he was standing originally. Harry makes a beeline for where his seat should be.

Except, the seat has someone else in it.

Oh God, he doesn’t want to deal with this right now. There’s that blessed outlet on the far side, and there’s that baggage space, full of _someone else’s things_ , and there’s his seat, full of _someone else_.

The boy is splayed across two seats, the other one probably originally his. He’s in a fluffy jumper, using his arms as a pillow, and is deeply, deeply asleep.

Harry sighs. It’s a three hour trip back to Holmes Chapel and now he doesn’t have a seat to do it in. The rest of the cabin looks to be full.

Just as he’s getting up the courage to maybe nudge the boy, the train begins moving. Harry’s never been the most coordinated (read: terribly clumsy), and the lurch throws him off balance and straight onto the sleeping boy, who groans.

“Oops, shit I’m sorry,” Harry says, desperate to not offend whomever he’s just woken up.

“No, I needed to be awake anyway,” the boy groans, rubbing his hands over his face. “Never been to this stop before, might miss it.” He looks up. “This your seat?”

“It is, yeah…” Harry feels a little guilty, for no real reason of course, it _is_ his seat.

“Sorry, here,” the boy moves over and pats the seat. “I’m Louis. Ever been to Holmes Chapel? My dorm mate Gemma invited me to stay with her family over the hols, since mine all went traveling without me.”

Well, that’s a surprise. “Harry,” he holds his hand out to shake, which Louis does. “Brother to Gemma. Welcome to the family, for the holidays I suppose.”

Louis smiles and his eyes crinkle at the corners. “Hi.”


	2. Chapter 2

It’s the fucking three wick candles that did it.

All Louis had wanted was a Christmas gift for his mum. He’d gotten all of his sisters exactly what they wanted from their lists, but his mum was horrible to buy for. She refused to make lists, always said she’d be happy with whatever Louis came up with.

Well of course she would, but for once Louis wanted to get her something better than the coupons for babysitting that he had made in primary school. Nothing he had gotten her since then had beaten those.

After an entire day cruising the mall, Louis thought he had finally found it. It was a candle store with so many scents wafting out that he was getting a bit dizzy. He spent hours smelling them, looking for the perfect scent. Some smelled just like the label (Apple Pie smelled like his childhood memories of fall; Pumpkin Pear, disgustingly enough, smelled like a pear squashed into a pumpkin), but others had odd labels that somehow, magically, matched (Ice Crystals smelled like a frosty morning, Lumber Woods smelled manly and buff).

But then it happened. The disaster. He was just choosing between Leaves and Autumn when a body crashed into him from behind, forcing him sprawling into a mountain of three wick candles, sending everything crashing.

“Shit, fuck, bugger, I’m sorry, I don’t know what happened, oh fuck,” the body who crashed into him – a boy with wild curls and frantic eyes – struggled to get up, and only managed to land on top of Louis again.

“Mate, calm down,” Louis said, steadying him. His mind was frantically trying to calculate how much it would take to pay for the candles. How long until an employee caught them and forced him to pay for this? He’d be working it off for centuries!

“No, I swear I’m not normally this bad, just – oh,” the boy managed to right himself, “this is a god awful mess.”

“It sure is,” Louis took the hand that the boy offered, and almost pulled the boy down again in the process. “Listen, how about we get out of here?”

“Like a – are you asking me on a _date_?” The boy squeaked in surprise.

“I – no? I was thinking that an employee will show up any minute and if they do we’re paying for this mess.”

“Oh – I, right, of course,” the boy’s face was flaming at that point and, well, he was certainly quite cute. And Louis was certainly quite single.

“But I know this great Italian place just around the corner we could hide out at,” Louis winked (and winked a couple more times, until the boy’s face finally lit up).

“Or – we could go back to mine? I’m Harry, pretty good at Italian cooking myself.”

It’s not until nearly a year later that Harry admits to him that he knocked Louis over because he was trying to smell him – he had thought Louis smelled better than any candle in the store.


	3. Chapter 3

“Come on Lou! The play starts in twenty minutes and you’re not getting any early presents tonight if we show up late to it!”

“You’re blackmailing me into going to our own child’s Christmas pageant?” Louis calls down the stairs, aghast. “I’m coming, I just want to make sure everything’s perfect for tomorrow! It’s my fookin’ birthday, cut me some slack!”

He jumps down the stairs two at a time to catch up to Harry, who already has his coat on and is tapping his foot impatiently.

“Yeah, but it’s our precious little baby’s first time being cast as something other than a tree in the nativity play and I’ll be darned if we end up getting seats in the back!” he tosses Louis’ coat to him. “Think about what Mrs. Gobbler will say if we show up late again, you know how much she trash talked me after I showed up to that last PTA meeting with burnt cookies!”

“They were still more delicious than anything she could make,” Louis says, sliding on his coat and leaning up on his tip toes to plant a kiss on Harry’s nose. “Now come on, let’s go.”

They hurry out the door, pausing only a moment for Harry to lock it behind him, and make their way down the lane toward the primary school on the corner. For once, snow has come early in the season, and there’s nearly an inch of it gracing the ground they’re walking on. It’s still snowing too, which Harry thinks is quite fitting. He hopes Grace is looking out the window to watch it while she gets ready, donning her lobster outfit that he worked so painstakingly on for the last month.

He’s pulled out of his thoughts by Louis taking his hand, and glances over at his lovely husband, flakes scattered through his feathery hair.

Harry hesitates before speaking. “So… I may have exaggerated how long until the play starts,” he concedes eventually.

Louis laughs softly, his cheeks bright pink from the cold and his breath coming out in steamy little huffs. “Haz, we’ve been married for quite a while now, I like to think I know when you’re _exaggerating_.” He looks up fondly and squeezes Harry’s hand in his. “Besides, you do this for every school function we go to. I like to think I would have caught on by now. I know the play doesn’t start for another hour.”

He pulls Harry to a stop in front of a yard particularly well lit up with twinkling lights and decorated evergreens, turning to face him and taking both Harry’s hands in his own. “Grace is going to be the best lobster the Christmas nativity has always seen.” He gets up on his tip toes to nuzzle Harry’s nose with his own. “It’s the best birthday present I could ask for.”

Harry chuckles and pulls him close. “Well, I wouldn’t make that claim yet. You haven’t seen what I’ve left under the tree for tonight.”


	4. Chapter 4

Three days ago, she had seemed like the perfect Christmas present.

Harry always talked about how much he missed Dusty while they were on the road. He would show Louis the snapchats from Anne of Dusty doing the most mundane things; sleeping mostly. Now, entering into their break, Louis thought it was the perfect time to indulge his favorite boy.

Harry was spending the week before Christmas in LA to close up their house for the winter, so Louis took it as the perfect opportunity to go cat shopping.

Peaches was the perfect little ginger kitten, with white mitten paws. Louis picked her up at the shelter and she immediately began purring, which he knew would make Harry ecstatic. Then she began trying to chew on his fingers, which meant she had sass. A perfect pet for the both of them.

He took her home the first night and set up her litter box, food bowls, and cat tree. She seemed a little nervous but was adjusting well. Louis had grand ideas of putting a bow around her neck and placing her in Harry’s stocking right before he walked through the door on Christmas Eve.

But now, Peaches was gone.

Well, not _gone_ exactly, but she certainly wasn’t in the living room. Or the kitchen. Or the bathroom, bedroom, basement… Okay, yeah, she was gone.

Louis tried not to panic. Harry was getting here in under an hour, and Peaches was missing. This wasn’t a disaster though, because Louis was an adult and could handle something as simple as locating a baby animal.

No he couldn’t.

“Mum, she’s gone, what do I do?” Louis whined into the phone.

He could hear his mum trying to keep her giggles to a minimum which, rude. “Baby, are you sure you’re ready to care for an animal?”

“ _Yes_ , I am. Now tell me now to find her, please!”

“Just let her come to you, Boobear. Put out some fresh food and sit nearby, she’ll appear when she’s hungry.”

Louis just hoped that Peaches got hungry before Harry walked through the door.

He set out a bowl of fresh food out on the kitchen floor, and perched himself on the counter to wait, opening his phone and scrolling through Twitter.

Eventually bored of even social media, and with still no sign of Peaches, he didn’t want to scare her off if she was lurking around a corner, so Louis did the only thing possible while still sitting on the counter; he made himself hot chocolate.

He was just adding the finishing touch of marshmallows to the top of his drink when a voice ran through the house.

“Lou! I’m finally home!”

But before he could jump off of the counter to go greet Harry, a ginger blur shot out from the cabinets above him, and raced for the front room.

Oh dear Lord, she had been above the cabinets above his head the entire time-

_“Lou! What is this adorable beast attacking my leg?”_


	5. Chapter 5

”Ho ho ho! Twenty days until the big day! Up and at ‘em!”

Niall burrows deeper under his thick, red and green sparkly covers. He hears Louis groan next to him and thrash violently in the direction of their alarm clock.

“Fookin’ Santa,” Louis grumbles. “Why he insists on personalizing the wake up alarm every day, I’ll never fookin’ know.”

Niall turns himself into a Christmas burrito. “Why did you insist on spiking the eggnog last night?” he moans, reaching out from under the blankets for the paracetamol.

“It was your idea, you twat,” Louis responds, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. “Now come on, I don’t want to be the last one to the workshop. Can’t stand another day in the Defective Toys room.”

They make it to breakfast in time to scarf down five cinnamon rolls a piece and chasers of maple syrup. Thankfully, they’re not the last elves from the European division to make it to the workshop. As per usual, their down the hall neighbor Harry is.

Which Niall knows means Louis will be sneaking out of the workshop at least once an hour to “deliver the new defectives”. How the two of them aren’t together yet, Niall will never know.

The workshop is loud as always, hundreds of different languages filtering through the room along with the sounds of noisy toys being tested and more than a few radios playing Christmas carols. Today Niall finds himself seated between Louis and Liam, which is an interesting mix. Louis always makes sure that the toys have maximum fun potential, while Liam’s number one concern is that the toys are family friendly and safe for all ages. Niall knows his day is going to quickly devolve into keeping Louis from pulling Liam’s pointy ears, and keeping Liam from taking all the fun out of the toys.

He’s wishing for another shot of last night’s egg nog right about now.

At noon, Santa’s jolly voice rings out, announcing their statistics for the day so far. “Productivity is 105% what it was this time last year! Christmas spirit is down 6% in the Americas but up 12% among individuals over the age of 18! Keep up the good work, Elves! Nineteen days and twelve hours left!”

Liam listens raptly. Louis shoots spitballs. Niall tries to ignore both of them and concentrates on wrapping CDs of some pop group called One Direction. He’s never listened to this particular group because they only have Christmas music year round in the workshop, and for some reason One Direction have never put out a Christmas album.

“And it looks like Defective Toys is falling a bit behind in their work for the day but, ho ho ho! I’m sure they’ll pick up soon!” Niall swears Santa throws a sideways look at Louis, but doesn’t have the chance to bring it up because Louis is up and out of his seat already, on his way toward Defective Toys with a huge smile on his face.


	6. Chapter 6

“Come on Abbie, just one more sleep before Christmas, but that means you need to get one done now.”

Louis gathered his daughter into his arms as her head lolled onto his shoulder. She was already mostly gone to the world. Her chubby little cheeks reflected the colourful bulbs on the Christmas tree and slung around the fireplace.

“Don’ wanna go to sleep, Da,” she slurred into his shoulder. “Wanna finish the movie.”

“Arthur Christmas will still be here tomorrow, we can even watch it from the beginning. Christmas means pizza and ice cream you know,” he placated her. It probably wouldn’t matter what he said though, by the time he laid her in her bed she was completely asleep.

Louis tiptoed down the hallway anyway, more out of habit than anything, and made his way back down the stairs to the sitting room.

The room was as festive as they had ever been able to make it. One enormous tree stood tall in the corner, decorated with every ornament they’d ever owned and covered in strands of coloured lights and popcorn. Christmas lights were strung up on every wall and lining the windows, and the fireplace held three carefully placed stockings below an intense fir sash.

Abbie had been impatient for Christmas to come, and had already filled two of them with the candy that Louis had let her pick out at the store last week, as well as two coupon books her class had made in their last week before winter hols. Louis had peeked and seen adorable unintelligible pink scrawl, followed by a translation at the bottom by her teacher of what Abbie had meant.

He sat down in the corner armchair (the one with a row of reindeer marching along at the bottom) and picked up his half-finished cup from earlier. The house was quiet but he couldn’t bring himself to put on another Christmas movie. Not… not yet.

 _Please_ , went his silent prayer, for the third week in a row. _Please bring my baby home._

_I know that he has important things to do, and I know that he’s serving our country. But you and I both know he’s needed much more here now than he is out there._

He had been supposed to get off of duty a month ago, but something had come up. Another soldier had a family emergency of some kind, and Harry had offered to take his place until a more permanent replacement could be found. Louis had understood, of course he had, but it was _Christmas_ and he… he just needed his baby home.

He never ended up turning the movie back on, but didn’t end up going to bed either. He fell asleep curled up in Harry’s favourite armchair, hot chocolate still unfinished on the table next to him.

The sun was rising when he awoke to the sounds of a key in the lock.

“Lou, baby? I’m sorry I’m late, but I made it home for Christmas.”


	7. Chapter 7

“Three weeks until Christmas, Zayn! Three!”

Zayn groans and reaches out to smack at Liam’s face. “It’s like five in the morning babe, go back to sleep.”

“It’s eight! And there’s so much to be done! There’s the tree, the lights, I’ve only got half the wrapping done-“

Zayn silences him with a smack to the mouth. “Important things, babe. But more important; my beauty sleep. Wake me at eleven with food.”

“It’ll be Christmas tree-shaped pancakes!” Liam sing-songs, leaning over to peck Zayn on the cheek before making a swift exit. Thank god, Zayn thinks as he rolls over and goes back to sleep.

Liam is true to his word, and brings tree shaped pancakes a few hours later. “I’ve already bought the tree,” he rambles, clearly more hyped up than even coffee could have made him. Christmas spirit and all that. “And I’ve gotten out all the decorations from the basement, and bought all new lights for the outside…”

“I feel like our neighbors didn’t entirely appreciate the number of lights you had up outdoors last year,” Zayn tries to gently remind him. They were more than unappreciated last year. Louis had been quite loudly grumbling whenever he was within Zayn’s earshot about how he couldn’t sleep through the lights shining in his window.

“They’ll get used to it,” Liam shrugs. “Anyway, I’ve got it all planned out this time around! I’m going to set them on timers so that it’s a complete light show. You know, like they do on the internet?”

“You do what you think is best, babe.” Zayn plants a syrupy sticky kiss on his cheek, in return for the one from Liam this morning. “As long as you don’t mind the bit of criticism for the next three weeks.”

Liam doesn’t mind. “It’s Christmas!” he reminds Zayn. Alright then.

The lights aren’t finished almost until the sun sets, and Zayn spends most of it sitting in their driveway making sure Liam doesn’t fall off the ladder. At one point he sees Louis get home, with his boyfriend of almost half a year, Harry. Louis scowls when he sees what Liam is up to, but Harry’s face lights up in awe. Zayn’s too far away but he can hear a discussion going on between the two of them after that.

It is a sight to behold when it’s done. Liam goes to bed happy and Zayn worried.

There’s no retaliation for two days. Zayn hopes Harry improved Louis’ decision. On the third night though, in the middle of dinner, he hears laughter echoing through from out front.

“Think Louis already got too eggnog drunk?” Liam asks, sipping the drink himself.

Zayn shrugs, but the laughter comes again later so he feels the need to check outside.

Which, there’s worse retaliation that could have happened. The word ‘twat’ written in Christmas lights across the front of Louis’ house with an arrow pointing to Zayn and Liam’s, well… at least it’s sort of the Christmas spirit.


	8. Chapter 8

Harry yawned. It was an extremely late night and didn’t feel like it would be ending any time soon. He still had so many patients to see because of course everyone gets sick during the holidays. The flu going around was especially nasty this year, and while he was curing patients as fast as his brews could allow, it wasn’t going to be easy to get around to everyone and home in time.

Scratch that, he was already late. He just wanted to be home before Louis fell asleep on the couch waiting for him.

The sky was pitch dark above him, clouds apparently covering the stars so high above, and since he was currently flying through the rolling hills of the Yorkshire countryside, he couldn’t expect much light pollution to help illuminate his patch.

Good thing Louis had reminded him to carry a lamp this time.

It was a little tricky, inching his way down the broom (he’s fallen so many times), but he just needed to be far enough forward to pull one of the ribbons right at the end of the handle. It was one of Louis’s specialty spells, the kind Harry was never any good at, and when he unfurled the pink ribbon its ends began to glow with a soft, flickering light. It was enough to light his path as well as show the slight dusting of snow now covering the ground.

Mrs. Treggoran was next, and knocking at the door was also tricky while staying on the broom, but he knew she would talk his ear off if she had the chance, and he certainly wasn’t one to give her that chance. He gave her one of the small vials left of salve that he had made up that morning, assuring her that Christmas would be much more pleasant without that horrid cough.

Then came Mr. Darcy, and Ms. Archer and her brother. They were all quite kind and wished him the best, their trees glowing brightly. It’d be a good two hours before he arrived home.

Six more houses came and went, and finally he was left with the last customer on his list. The name must have been a mistake of some sort, he thought, reading the messily scrawled “Mr. Christmas”. Louis had made up the list for him, was this a joke? Everyone knew if Santa was in England he stayed with his sister down south.

The house the instructions led him to was at the end of a winding road. It was a small cottage, old and fancy with a wreath of bayberry on the door, and a very classic looking Christmas tree illuminated in the window.

Harry knocked timidly, and a second later, a familiar voice called “Come in!”

“Lou, what’s this?”

Louis smiled, eyes bright. “I thought you deserved a bit of a break. Got this cottage for the whole week, how do you feel about whipping up a good Christmas pudding with those magical hands of yours?”


	9. Chapter 9

Niall checked his wallet. $10.43 – that was all the money he had to buy Christmas gifts for his roommates.

They had said they wouldn’t do Christmas this year, what with everyone sort of feeling the squeeze from having to cover the extra rent from one less roommate. It made sense, of course it did, to cut down on costs.

Except, it was Christmas. Niall loved Christmas, had since he was a boy, and presents were the best part. Even back in primary school he would spend days making crafts for everyone in his family, and saving sweets to give out to his friends right before Christmas Hols. It seemed dreadful to think that this year, of all years, he would have to go without giving.

Sure, he had his family back home in Ireland to send presents to, and he had taken care of that months ago with little trinkets from a church fundraiser. Sure, money was tight this year. Sure, Christmas was just another over commercialised holiday.

But, it was Christmas.

So he was wracking his brain. What could he get for three roommates for just over a tenner? That wouldn’t even buy a decent round of drinks. At least, not when Harry insisted on his fruity cocktails.

It was less than a week until Christmas, and he still had no clue.

Four days until Christmas, and that $10.43 was burning a hole in his pocket.

Two days until Christmas, and Liam was singing Christmas carols at the top of his voice.

One day until Christmas, and Louis was singing Happy Birthday.

Christmas morning, Niall woke up with only 29 cents left in his wallet. He had finally decided on something, late on Christmas eve while Louis downed his birthday vodka and Harry and Liam rearranged the ornaments on the Christmas tree for what must have been the twelfth time.

Being a house of university students, no one was getting up at dawn and running to see what Santa had brought them (although their parents had all sent presents that were sitting prettily under the tree, to be opened at a more reasonable hour). In fact, Niall was the first one up. He grabbed the bag from under his bed and headed to the sitting room, to put the three small parcels right at the front of the stacks.

It was around noon when everyone else finally emerged.

“Niall, what’s this? We said we weren’t getting each other anything.”

Niall shrugged. “It’s Christmas. Couldn’t help myself.”

Each boy opened their small parcels, to be faced with a framed polaroid.

“I realised we never put up any decorations around here,” Niall explained. “Wasn’t too hard to find the first selfies I took with each of you.”

At the end of the day, Harry’s and Liam’s selfies with Niall hung proudly in the front hall. Louis’s hung in a slightly more discreet place because of the lewd hand motions.

Niall had never spend so little for such great gifts.


	10. Chapter 10

Louis was just having a shit day, okay? There was a new barista at Starbucks who had clearly been judging him for his order, and the price of petrol had gone way up overnight while his car sat on the street on empty, and Missy had escaped out of the window that Fizzy had opened when the turkey in the oven started burning.

There were too many people in his and Harry’s apartment, what with both families coming to London to stay for Christmas, and the two of them had been reduced to sleeping on the old pull out couch, which Louis knew gave Harry a bad back. Even If Harry was a ridiculous little angel who never complained, Louis found himself getting upset on his behalf, and all in all it was just wearing on him.

“Come on,” Harry said. “Go Christmas caroling with us!”

All the girls were going Christmas caroling. All of them. Louis was going to be left at home just him and Ernest for some good old fashioned bonding time, and as Ernest was the quietest, happiest little toddler. It was going to be perfect.

“No,” Louis told Harry.

“Come oooooon Lou Bear. It’s going to be great!”

Louis gave Harry his classic ‘don’t fuck with me right now, baby’ look. “I know for some reason the holiday season gives you freakish amounts of good cheer, but I am about cheered out and would dearly like to sit and watch football with Ernest on the telly. And not hear anyone screaming about anyone for a good hour.”

Harry flopped onto the couch next to him and snuggled into his side. “I know you’re so tired, babe,” he cooed.

“Mmm,” Louis affirmed.

“But if you do this with me, I promise I’ll let you open a Christmas present on your birthday.”

That… was tempting. Harry had presents for Christmas and presents for Louis’ birthday. It was always horrible knowing he had so many left and wasn’t allowed to open them.

“And I’ll take everyone out shopping tomorrow.”

“Yes,” Louis says, because he knows a good thing when he hears it.

It takes what feels like hours to bundle up everyone. Louis is in charge of carrying Ernest, who is wrapped so tight in scarves that he’s become a little ball. Gemma and Fizzy accidentally switch coats and then get into a row about whether or not to switch back.

The thing is though, they don’t even make it to the first house. What nobody had anticipated when they opened the door was the absolute blizzard that was going on outside, flurries so thick that they got about two yards outside before realizing they may never find anyone to sing to.

“Hot chocolate it is, then!” Harry calls when they get back in. It’s still too crowded and loud, and they may be snowed in soon, but Louis finds he doesn’t mind. Not when he’s curled up with Harry and hot cocoa and his family surrounding him.


	11. Chapter 11

The ice rink was absolutely beautiful. It was magical, as it was always designed to be, with holiday lights illuminating the rink itself as well as the beautiful old building that the ice rink was surrounded by. It was manicured to Christmas perfection, and this was perfectly illustrated by the vast number of lovey dovey couples skating around the rink hand in hand.

There were also a number of small children fumbling around the rink, shrieking with joy in one instant and bursting into tears the next. Zayn worked to focus on them, and not on the stupid couples that were trying so hard to show off their PDA to the world.

Zayn hated Christmas.

Sure, presents and family togetherness were nice, but in public, Christmas was just an excuse for couples to show off how in love they were. It was sickening. He hated it. They needed to learn to keep that crap to themselves.

He stood in the ticket booth freezing his nose off as he collected the stubs for people to go into the rink, making sure to keep about the same number of people inside. He learned that the hard way; too many people in the rink meant skating accidents, and busted open knees. It was bad.

In fact, that jarring memory was quite similar to something that seemed to be unfolding right in front of him. Oh no. Zayn watched the accident happen like watching a train wreck, as a girl tripped up and fell backward – as one is taught to fall – and her feet went straight into the air, one of them aimed straight at the knee of the guy she was holding the hand of.

Oh no.

Both of them were on the ground a second later, blood gushing from his knee through his trouser leg. Zayn hit the emergency button below his desk, but oh lord that’s nasty. The girl was getting hysterical.

All things considered, the boy was handling it rather well. He was clutching his leg in pain, yes, but he wasn’t passing out, and he didn’t seem ready to yell or scream or vomit. This could be worse.

Emergency team was taking forever, where were they? Zayn grabbed the emergency kit from under his desk, at least he could help get the boy off the ice. People around them had mostly stopped skating, so Zayn carefully made his way across. He kneeled down next to the couple.

“Do you think you could stand, with help? This would be easier to bandage off the ice.”

The man looked up at him. “Am I hallucinating?” he asked, voice rather calm.

“No? I hope not,” Zayn said. “Why? What are you seeing?”

“Well there’s an absolute angel come to help me,” the man said, and offered up a smile.

Zayn was endeared. He also felt like vomiting.

“Is- is that a pick up line?” he asked, aghast.

“Depends, is it working?”

“Maybe. If you survive this with both legs intact, we’ll see.”


	12. Chapter 12

“Daddy wake up!”

Louis groans. “Isaac,” he complains. “It’s early. Go back to sleep, little bear.”

“Nooooo but Daddy!” Isaac whines. “You said you’re taking me to see Santa today!”

“I am, of course I am, but I don’t think Santa is going to be at the mall at-” he checks his watch, “Six a.m. We can go see him at ten, how about that, huh?”

“But I wanna see Santa nooooow!” Isaac complains. He’s a good kid, really he is, but sometimes Louis regrets being the stay at home parent.

“Come on,” he says, sitting up and rubbing at his face. “I suppose we can make some pancakes now so we’ll be bright and chipper for when we see Santa.”

-

They are not bright and chipper for when they see Santa.

“I’m sorry sir,” the woman in Holiday Land whisper. “Santa’s come down with the flu, and this time of the season it’s absolutely impossible to get a replacement. We’ve got one tomorrow, but couldn’t find a Santa for today.” She glances sympathetically at Isaac, holding tight to Louis’s hand, who looks like he’s about to break into tears any moment.

“No… no Santa?” he asks pathetically, not able to read the sign stating that Santa is away on official North Pole business, but able to grasp the concept of an empty chair.

“I’m afraid not little buddy,” Louis squats in front of him. “But we can come back tomorrow, okay? And Maybelle will be out of school by then, so we can bring her too. Is that okay?”

Isaac, little angel that he is, sniffles and nods but doesn’t put up a fuss. Louis buys him hot chocolate for being such a good boy.

He calls Harry and tells him about it on the way home. Harry is surely in the middle of some impressive lawyer-y talk of some kind, but he always insists he has time to hear whatever Louis has to say, and is quite sympathetic to poor Isaac as well. He knows as well as Louis that Isaac has been waiting for weeks for this date.

“Oh Lou, I’m probably going to be home a few minutes late tonight, I have to stop at the store for a present for your mum that just came in. Just turn on the oven at five and put in the casserole by five thirty.”

-

At six on the dot, a knock sounds at the front door. Isaac runs to answer because he always does, no matter what Louis or Harry try to teach him about stranger danger, so Louis races after him.

Whomever is outside is wearing a lot of red, that’s all Louis can see through the window, and he opens the door wondering if they have carolers.

“Ho ho ho! I heard I missed you today, Isaac!”

Harry looks ridiculous and fake in that Santa suit, but Isaac is of course completely fooled, and Louis feels like he has never loved his husband so much.


	13. Chapter 13

Some people have odd Christmas traditions, and then there’s Niall.

“Niall, why are you wearing ivy in your hair?”

“Were you going for mistletoe? You know I would have kissed you if you’d just asked-“

Niall waved them all off. “It’s the twelve days of Christmas, lads, and they start today! These are pear tree leaves!”

“Pear tree leaves?” Harry questions.

“Of course!” Niall adjusts the careful crown of leaves, at peace with his outfit. “My brother’s got the partridge, but of course he’s not here. So we’ll just be doing them from afar this year and sending pictures.” He fishes out his phone and shows them a snap of his brother with what looks like a hideous beaked monster on his head. “Made that ourselves when we were six! Mum was so proud.”

The boys looked at each other skeptically. But if it’s how Niall does this…

“Well, happy first day of Christmas then,” Louis says, clapping Niall on the shoulder. “Let me know when you bring in seven swans, I think I’ll sit that day out.”

The next days continue like that, with Niall adorning himself with odd articles of clothing and accoutrements. He started with a lot of jumpers with messily sewn birds on the fronts. Each day he’d present himself proudly, and in tandem the pictures sent from his family of their similar outfits.

The gold rings were small plastic ones that they apparently got in Christmas crackers as small children, small cheap things that Niall now wore on a necklace because they were much too small for his bony fingers. The swans were white jumpers with bird faces drawn in face paint on Niall’s hands so the arms were their necks, the maids a-milking were represented by a cow onesie and clip-on pigtails.

They were all quite ridiculous but Niall was ecstatic so everyone was happy for him as well. It was difficult for all of them to spend so much time away from their families, Niall especially.

By the end of the twelve days they were beginning to see even Niall drooping a little, celebrating only through texts and calls with the only people who really understood this tradition, so the boys decided they could help out a little.

“Niall, it’s Christmas!” Louis shouts, bounding into Niall’s hotel room.

“Mmguh,” Niall groans. “Christmas don’ start until the sun’s up.”

“That’s a lie and you know it,” Louis says. He grabs Niall’s arm and tugs him. “Come on, we’ve got presents!”

He drags him to Harry’s room, where the rest of them are sitting around a large pile. “Come on Niall,” Harry says. “Open yours!”

Niall grabs one, suddenly awake, and tears it open. “A… drum?”

“Open another!”

He does so. “Another… drum?”

And again. “A fucking drum??”

And another… another… He rips them all open with a curious insanity. “Twelve drums?! What on earth?!”

“Well we couldn’t get the twelve drummers drumming for you, but we at least got their drums! Merry Christmas Nialler!”


	14. Chapter 14

Harry had never seen so many small children in his life.

Three years ago, a situation like this would have been cause for insane amounts of jealousy, and sneaking pictures on his iPhone to show Louis later, but today it came with a very different concern.

Harry had never seen so many small children in his life, but he couldn’t see his own small child anywhere.

Visiting Winter Wonderland had been Louis’ idea, remembering Christmases here when he and his sisters were younger. Harry had never gone as a kid, Holmes Chapel always having its own local Christmas fete and nativity play. He was more than excited to experience this tradition that Louis felt was a part of his childhood though, and fully supported taking their daughter Evelyne along.

When they arrived, Harry carrying Evelyne on his hip with Louis next to him, the park had been transformed, covered in Christmas lights from tree top to grassy bottom, and everything covered in a delightfully real dusting of snow. There were groups of carol singers, booths with games and ornaments and toys, places selling hot drinks, basically everything that would make one think of the season.

Louis insisted that they go straight for Santa’s workshop to get a picture with Evelyne. The line is out the door, of course, but they got a number card to come back in less than an hour, which meant they had an hour to spend out among the lights and Christmas joy.

They perused the booths, Evelyne on his shoulders. Louis grabbed a few pounds out of Harry’s back pocket and claimed to be off in search of the perfect hot chocolate for them. He was quickly lost in the crowd, leaving Harry and Evelyne in front of an acapella group singing Santa’s Coming to Town.

Evelyne started squealing to be set down so that she could go pet the animals in the petting zoo – sheep and goats, mostly – and Harry did so, setting her down and keeping a firm grasp on her little hand.

But then, in the rush of the crowd and her excitement over fuzzy animals, suddenly Evelyne’s hand was no longer in his, and she was slipping through the crowds faster than Harry could follow.

It had been ten minutes of frantic searching since, and Harry was inches away from breaking down in tears. His precious baby was gone, and Louis was still off getting hot chocolate, and they’d never see little Evie again. Louis would probably divorce him for this. Evie would grow up an orphan on the London streets. They would never-

“Harry?”

Harry blinked, clearing his watery vision. “Louis?”

There was Louis, right in front of him. With Evelyne tucked safely in his arms.

“She found me at the hot chocolate booth. Are you alright?”

“I’m-” Harry swallowed thickly. “Yeah. Need a hug though.”

“Oh Harry,” Louis cooed, snaking his free arm around Harry. “You know we’d always find her again. We love her too much for that.”


	15. Chapter 15

“Every time a bell rings, an angel gets its wings”

Harry’s seen angels getting their wings left, right and center. They’re all doing spectacular things; showing people on Earth their true worth, reuniting families, helping people to learn to have giving hearts, and so on. He’s happy for them all, he really is. Niall’s been flying circles around him for weeks now, his happiness bursting at the seams.

And here Harry is, just bumbling around on his two legs. It’s just that everything he does tends to go just slightly wrong. He tries, and God assures him that’s what counts. It’s not that he’s doing bad work, per se, it’s just that he hasn’t hit his stride yet.

So here he is, walking around Earth in a little place called Doncaster, looking for his next assignment; one Lottie Tomlinson.

He’s watched her for a while; she’s sad. It took him months to figure out why because she refused to talk about it to anyone, but it’s finally come out – she misses her brother.

It takes him another two weeks to find this brother. His name’s Louis, apparently, and he’s made it all the way to London. Harry’s never been good understanding money, ends up walking all the way himself.

He finds Louis in an alley, leaning against a dumpster cradling a backpack. Harry takes a seat next to him.

“I’m Harry,” he says.

“Louis.”

“What are you doing out here a week from Christmas? It’s cold out, don’t you have family to get to?”

“Right to the point, aren’t ya?” Louis doesn’t seem too bothered. “Look, I don’t know who you are, but it’s not your business.”

Louis says no more, even after Harry continues to talk. He doesn’t seem to object Harry sitting with him though, so he stays.

Louis sleeps in the alley that night, so Harry does too.

It’s four days of next to no communication, Louis only leaving to get stale sandwiches from the shop they’re behind.

“Are you ready to go home yet?” Harry asks on Christmas Eve Eve.

“Nope,” Louis says. He’s sadder than he was earlier though.

“What would make you ready?”

Louis thinks for a bit. “Will you come?”

“If that’s what it takes.”

-

They arrive back using the last of Louis’s money on the train. Louis is welcomed back like the prodigal son, his family so excited that he’s safe.

“Why can’t they see you?” Louis asks that night when the two of them are in his room.

“It’s not important,” Harry says. Lottie’s happy, so technically he’s off assignment.

“Does that mean you’re going to leave soon? Since you’ve convinced me to come home finally?”

“Maybe,” Harry shrugs. “I don’t think you’re ready for that though.”

“Maybe not,” Louis says.

Christmas comes, the family opens presents. Louis slips Harry one too, it’s a movie. It’s a Wonderful Life.

“Made me think of you,” Louis says. “Please stay a while longer.”

Maybe Harry can wait for his wings a little longer.


	16. Chapter 16

“Each class will be sponsoring one family, to spread cheer around to those less fortunate,” Harry reads off the Christmas Charity paper his daughter Susie brought home. “Sounds interesting. How’s your class doing it?”

“We got a list!” Susie says excitedly. “We asked our Christmas family to write us all of the presents they want!”

“Sounds fun,” Harry chuckles. “I’ll stick ten pounds in your backpack, okay?”

Susie nods excitedly. She’s inherited her father’s love of the giving season.

Three days later, Susie comes home with another note. “Teacher wanted volunteers to take the money and go present shopping!” she says. “I volunteered you, Daddy!”

“That was very nice of you, Ladybug. Although next time maybe you should ask me first…”

Susie agrees emphatically. Harry knows she won’t remember. “Okay, show me this list.”

The list she hands him has two names on it. One name, Leo, has a long list of toys; Legos, trains, things that a boy around Susie’s age would love. The other name, Louis, has only one thing listed under it; warm jumpers, size Adult Small.

They go shopping that weekend. Harry puts Susie in charge of Leo, and he takes personal charge of Louis. For someone down on his luck, Harry thinks Louis has very little on his list, and so it’s necessary to come up with the best jumpers he possibly can. He gets six, spending a bit of his own money as well as the money Susie’s class has raised. He’s pretty proud of what he’s come up with.

The presents get delivered to their respective families in secret, so that no one can be embarrassed by being publicly labeled as a charity case. It just happens that Harry is late to school that day; his car breaks down on the M6 and he spends a good hour waiting for a tow. He gets to Susie’s classroom in time to see a man and his son walking down the hallway. The boy is enraptured with a large box of what look like Legos, and the man is wearing a jumper that Harry recognizes well; it’s a soft violet color and has the word peace embroidered on it. The man looks like he’s holding back tears and for a second Harry feels the same.

He finds Susie, profusely thanking the teacher for staying behind with her, and leads her out to where his rental is waiting.

They’re not a block away before Harry sees that jumper again; the man Harry assumes is Louis and his son walking down the sidewalk, neither of them in a proper coat.

Harry takes a chance and prays it’s the right move. He pulls over next to Louis, who looks surprised and guarded, and rolls down the window. “My daughter and I were just about to make Christmas cookies, and we’d really like someone to help mix,” he says. “Your son’s in Susie’s class, right?”

Louis’s still guarded, but his smile is genuine. “We could spare an hour, maybe.”


	17. Chapter 17

Harry looked at the piece of paper in his hand. It’s neatly written in small print right in the middle; the name of his secret Santa recipient. Niall.

Damn, Harry had really been hoping for Louis, if he was honest. He knew how much Louis had been eyeing that bathrobe when they were at the mall last week.

Niall… Niall. What to get Niall? What to get someone who was so perpetually light hearted all the time that Harry couldn’t remember a time that Niall had ever been in wont of anything?

Well, except food, that is.

But what a boring Christmas present! Food was for the faint of heart. It was for the predictable. Harry wasn’t going to just fill Niall’s car with chicken wings or something, like Louis did last year.

That was The Incident Never to be Spoken of Again. Niall had taken the tube to work all that week. The chicken wings hadn’t been found. Wild dogs had attempted to break into his car. It had been a mess.

Anyway.

What did Niall love? He loved happiness. Harry couldn’t get him that. What else. He loved refurbishing his flat. Tearing out floorboards and designing interiors. Maybe a book on interior design? God, Harry was just not on his game.

He decided to sleep on it.

The next morning heralded no answers. What to get Niall? Maybe a pet. Rabbits? No, he once said they’re pointless and do nothing.

Niall needed a useful present.

Harry scoured the mall all that afternoon. Nothing looked appealing. Children everywhere were crying for one reason or another, and Harry eventually had to leave because crying children just made him so sad he was about to start crying too. There went that plan.

He popped over to Niall’s on the way home. Niall answered the door in what Harry knew to be his post- workout outfit.

“Babies made me sad,” Harry sniffed. Niall welcomed him in and served him hot cocoa.

“Babies make me sad sometimes too,” Niall said understandingly. “Especially Theo, because he’s not a baby anymore.” He sipped his cocoa. “He’s old enough to talk now! Never shuts up. Love that little Bug.”

Harry saw the way Niall’s eyes sparkled when he talked about Theo. This seemed useful! Maybe Harry could steal Theo and… no, scratch that. Louis told him last week that any plan that starts with stealing babies is a Bad Plan and must be scrapped. Hmm…

One week later, Niall’s front doorbell rang. He got up to open it, wearing his favourite reindeer slippers, and was faced with a package.

He slipped inside with the box and tore it open. No point waiting, right? Inside was… a tiny pair of glasses?

A toddler sized checkered suit.

Tiny loafers.

Every outfit Niall could remember wearing in the last six months, there was a miniature of, just Theo’s size.

Harry considered it a Secret Santa well done when all the matching pictures started appearing on Instagram later that week.


	18. Chapter 18

“Niall, I need eggs!”

Niall is about ready to chuck some eggs at Harry’s face. “I need my own eggs!”

“But Niiiiiiall,” Harry groans. “I need eggs because Louis took two for an omelette this morning! Now I’m two short! I had the perfect number for baking my maple cookies and I don’t have enough time to run to the store!”

“Tough noodles,” Niall snaps. “I’m making cookies for the exchange too, and I need enough for mine! Go call Louis and get him to bring you more!”

“I can’t,” Harry huffs. “He’s spending the day at his sister’s.”

“Then walk to Tesco and get another half dozen! I don’t know why you didn’t think this through, Haz. You always break an extra couple anyway!”

Harry is getting awfully close to Niall’s bowl now. Niall is starting to feel the pressure, the way Harry is staring over his shoulder. 

“You shouldn’t add that much salt,” Harry mumbles, eying the container in Niall’s hands.

“Don’t backseat bake!” Niall screeches. “If you can’t finish your cookies, make no-bakes! Don’t disturb this delicate process!” He slaps Harry’s hand that was headed for his bowl of dough. “Go find Liam! Borrow from him!”

Harry cradles the hand that Niall slapped, pouting. “Liam finished his this morning! Louis took the rest of his eggs for his first omelette. He doesn’t have eggs.”

Niall is going to go insane. “Get out of my kitchen,” he groans. “Stop being such a complainer! Go do something useful!”

Harry goes back to his bowl. He stares at it. Niall turns the Christmas carols up louder. Merry Christmas, he thinks to himself. The cookie exchange is always the most testing part of the holiday season.

-

“Merry Christmas Lottie!”

“Merry Christmas Jae!”

“Merry Christmas Liam!”

The greetings go on for the first twenty minutes of the cookie exchange, as everyone walks through the door and head for the diningroom to set down their creations.

“Lou!” Harry shouts, because it’s been an entire day since he’s seen Louis. “Louis it’s been horrible! Everyone was so mean to me and it’s all your fault!”

Louis pets Harry’s hair as Harry latches onto him like a koala. “Has he been on the peppermint schnapps?” he asks Niall.

Niall sets down his plate of cookies and nods. “He wouldn’t shut up, I needed something to preoccupy him while I got actual work done.”

“Looooooouuu,” Harry whines while smelling his hair. “Your hair smells lovely. Better than the cookies I didn’t bake.”

“I baked enough for both of us, Love,” Louis coos. 

The families and friends all gather around the cookies with plates and smiles, collecting all the different kinds and commenting on the tastes. 

“Wait, Harry does this plate has your name by it?”

“Oh, yeah that was my first batch,” Harry says. 

“You told me you didn’t have any!” Niall wails. “You complained for hours!”

Harry shrugs. “They weren’t good enough,” he plants a kiss on Niall’s cheek. “Not for my favourite Irish blessing.”


	19. Chapter 19

Louis hates Christmas. He hates it more than socks. More than open windows in winter. More than tea with milk.

Well, actually that’s not true at all. But he’s certainly not in the mood for Christmas today.

It’s just that sometimes it’s terrible horrible, having a birthday right before Christmas. People are bound to forget either one or the other, and since no one would ever forget Christmas, it’s going to end up being his birthday that gets forgotten, isn’t it?

It’s Christmas Eve and the sun is already starting to set. Nobody has wished him a happy birthday. Well, his mum sent him a text but Louis’s not going to count that. He’s already dwelling in his bitterness and he would like to continue, thank you very much.

Harry’s been at work all day because his boss refused to let him have the day off, the absolute Scrooge, and isn’t due home yet. Louis facetimed Niall a few hours ago and Niall wished him a happy Christmas and told him all the new things Theo has gotten up to, but did he mention Louis’s birthday? No.

He called Liam and complained about nothing in particular. Liam asked him to please find someone else to complain to because he would very much like to go make out with his boyfriend. Louis hung up. His bad mood only got worse.

So now he’s laid himself down on the living room floor and is sulking in silence. Nobody’s getting Christmas presents tomorrow, he decides.

It’s a good half hour later that Harry’s arrives home.

“You’re on the floor,” says Harry.

“Fuck off,” Louis says. “I’m drowning in bitterness.”

Harry walks over and takes ahold of him, hauling him up. Louis attempts to go boneless but Harry manages to get him all the way to his feet anyway.

“You didn’t text me,” Harry says.

“What?”

“I left you a note to text me when you woke up.”

Louis thinks back to this morning. He remembers something about a paper stuck to his face that he flung onto the ground. “Oh.”

“I had a plan,” Harry groans. “You ruined the plan.” He falls back onto the couch. Louis feel his bitterness dissipating.

“What was the plan?” he asks, sidling up to Harry on the couch.

“I was gonna sing you happy birthday,” Harry says. He scrolls through his phone and hands it to Louis. “And send you these to help you wake up.”

Those are pictures that Harry should definitely make sure never make it to the Cloud.

“And I left a bowl of chocolate pudding in the refrigerator for your lunch!”

Louis loves chocolate pudding.

“And then?” Louis prompts, wondering if there’s more.

“Well you have presents too, but it all feels rather ruined now,” Harry bemoans.

“Not ruined,” Louis says softly. “How about chocolate pudding now? And presents and Christmas movies?”

“That sounds lovely,” Harry says. He places a brief kiss to Louis’s cheek. “Happy Louis day, Lou.”

“Happy Christmas Eve, Harry.”


	20. Chapter 20

“On the fifth day of Christmas my true love gave to me fiiiiiive, gooooold riiiiiings.”

“Harry please, I am trying to eat here!”

“What do you have against romance so early in the morning?” Harry asks, setting down his breakfast next to Louis.

“Romance my foot,” Louis grumbles. “Nothing romantic about someone buying their significant other an army of servants and birds.”

“You don’t like the twelve days of Christmas?” Harry asks, appalled. “It’s classic! They love each other enough to buy them the world! It’s beautiful!”

“Harry,” Louis interjects. “We’re millionaires. I’d buy you YSL before I spent money on birds and dancers. The only good part of that story is the rings. That’s the only sensible present.”

Harry huffs. “We’ll see about that.” He dives into his pancakes with a vengeance.

As it was already the twentieth, Harry only really gets to plan for the first five days. He’s going to make them worth it, though.

“Harry,” Louis calls from the bedroom. “Why is there a tree in here?”

Harry walks in with a smug look. “It’s a pear tree bonsai! Isn’t it cute?” He strides over and lands a kiss on Louis’s nose. “And I just finished painting this,” he hangs on one of the largest branches a messily painted fat bird ornament.

“That’s a partridge, isn’t it?” Louis says suspiciously. Harry nods proudly and Louis groans.

The next day, Louis is lounging on the couch when Harry plops down next to him. “Chocolate?” he asks, holding out a bag. Louis takes one happily. “Are these turtle chocolates?” he asks. “What’s with the marshmallows on their backs?”

“They’re wings!” Harry exclaims happily. “They’re turtle doves! Get it?”

Louis rolls his eyes and takes the bag, not letting Harry have any in punishment for his pun.

“See that?” Harry asks the next day when they’re out shopping. 

“What?” Louis asks, taking a closer look at the carton in Harry’s hands for tonight’s Christmas cookies. There’s three eggs with words sharpied onto the shells. Hon hon hon.

“These are gonna grow up to be hens,” Harry whispers conspiratorially. “French hens.”

Louis nearly punches the eggs.

The next day at dinnertime, the Facetime on Louis’s iPhone goes off. “Why is Little Mix calling me?” Louis wonders out loud. He picks up and makes polite conversation with them for a few minutes before hanging up. 

“That was weird,” Louis says. 

“Yeah,” Harry agrees. “Almost as if those were… Four calling birds.”

Louis bangs his head on the table.

The next day is Christmas and Louis is ready for the horrible puns to stop. They’re opening presents when Harry gets to the last box, handing it to Louis.

Louis tears off the wrapping and is presented with a small box. He opens it to find five golden rings, each inscribed with one word. Will, You, Marry, Me, Louis.

He closes it and throws it at Harry. “We’re already married, you dork!”

He’s smiling though. The song is dumb, but is kinda cute.


	21. Chapter 21

“Lou.”

“No.”

“But Lou-“

“I swear to God, Harry, if you hang that ornament on our tree you’re sleeping on the couch tonight.”

Harry looks sadly at the very inappropriate and very clearly male snowman ornament hanging in his hand. “But it reminds me of you…” he says forlornly.

Louis lets out a heartfelt sigh. “My sisters are coming for Christmas. I don’t want any snow penises anywhere on our tree.”

Harry lights up. “What about-“

“We’re not getting the nudie Susan Boyle one either. That’s terribly inappropriate and I question this craft bazaar you’ve taken me to. Why aren’t we just getting regular ornaments?”

“Because this is our first Christmas, Lou! We need something that we can look back on for years to come, whenever we get out the decorations, and think, _damn, look at these old ornaments. Remember this? Remember this great Susan Boyle ornament that you hated but that you learned to love?_ ”

Louis shoots him a look. “You’re really hung up on this Boyle ornament.”

“She’s a Christmas master, Lou! Her songs could fell a nation! You can’t get better than that!”

Louis rolls his eyes. “Listen, we’ve currently got five ornaments on the tree, it’s going to need more than just a few trashy-“ Harry makes an affronted noise “-Albeit funny ornaments. Why can’t we just go to Tesco’s and get a starter pack? Nice silver and gold ones?”

Harry hangs the snowman back on the rack and follows Louis as he walks down the aisles of craft booths. He wraps his arms around Louis’s shoulders, rubbing his face into Louis’s hair until Louis giggles and pushes him off. 

“Silver and gold should be for the tree in the kitchen,” Harry says. There’s a four foot tree in the corner of their kitchen that was the one Louis had always kept in his flat through university. It’s a little rough around the edges at this point.

“Sure, we can get them for that one too,” Louis says, “I just think it’s important that our tree looks at least a _little_ normal.”

“Fine,” Harry pouts. “It can be normal and still have unique ornaments, though. We just haven’t found the right ones yet!”

The thing is, Harry’s taste in craft bazaars is a little odd at best, and the one he’s managed to drag Louis to is filled with ornaments even more, well, inappropriate than the ones they’ve found so far. It’s another hour of going through booths and laughing at ridiculous and tacky things before they find some that look acceptable.

It’s a young girl, maybe not even old enough to rent the booth without her parents’ permission, and she’s selling felt animals, all clearly made with care. Louis sees Harry’s eyes light up when he first sets eyes on the adorable woodland creatures and pond animals.

They come out of the bazaar with plush ornaments that represent every member of their families and a promise to fill the leftover space with cheap Tesco’s baubles.


	22. Chapter 22

Zayn wakes up to the sound of Michael Buble filtering softly through the room. He hears another voice joining in after a minute, “ _It’s beginning to look a lot like CHRIST-maaas._ ”

He lays there for a bit, pondering whether or not he’s slipped into a coma for approximately a month and a half. There couldn’t be any other explanation, could there? For the fact that he’s hearing Christmas music in their house at – he checks his watch – nine in the morning on a Saturday in the beginning of October?

Christ, there’s still ghosts made out of napkins hanging from the lamp in the dining room from when his sisters were here a week ago.

The music only increases in volume, the voice singing along in excitement. Eventually, with a groan Zayn hoists himself out of bed and makes his way out into the living room.

There, sitting smack dab in the middle of the living room floor, is Niall. He’s got his phone sitting on the ground next to him playing the music that’s been filtering through the house. In front of him are rolls of wrapping paper, bows, boxes, and a pile of items that Zayn assumes are to be wrapped.

What is wrong with this boy.

“Niall,” Zayn says, keeping like ninety percent of the exasperation out of his voice. Probably. “Niall, it’s not even Halloween.”

“Zayn!” Niall shouts, only just noticing that he’s entered the room. He jumps up and lands a kiss smack on Zayn’s cheek before ruffling his hair. “Zayn, I don’t know what to get Theo. I think I got him books for his birthday, so should he gets toys for Christmas? I just don’t know…” He looks down at his pile of presents in puzzlement.

“Niall,” Zayn reiterates. “Halloween. Leaves turning colors. Three weeks until Bonfire Night.”

“No, but Zayn you don’t understand!” Niall complains, sliding back down onto the floor and taking Zayn’s hand to pull him down next to him. “See, there’s so little time and so much to do! What do we get Harry and Louis? It’s their first year in a flat together so of course they’re going to need ornaments for their tree, but-“

Zayn shuffles through the pile of presents as Niall continues to rant about how little time there is to prepare. “When did you even have time to _do_ this?” he asks, picking up the makeup palette that Doniya mentioned just two days ago.

“I’ve been doing this for months,” Niall notes offhand. He picks up a book and begins meticulously measuring out the wrapping paper. “The second anyone has their birthday it means I have to start taking notes for Christmas presents.” He skips to another album on his phone, changing to _A Charlie Brown Christmas_ and humming along happily. He seems entirely at peace with the world.

Zayn thinks he’s insane.

“I’ll make the hot cocoa,” Zayn says, standing up. “But I draw the line at actual Christmas decorations until after Bonfire Night.”


	23. Chapter 23

Harry checked his list. He checked it and checked it again. There was no way he’d made this mistake. He couldn’t have. It wasn’t possible.

Harry spent the afternoon racking his brain for a Christmas present. It was Christmas Eve Eve, and so much too late to get anything from the internet. Perhaps too late to get anything from the shops either, considering it was going to be quite busy with last minute shoppers. Normally he didn’t worry too much about being spotted in public, but on one of the busiest shopping days of the year, he didn’t particularly want to risk it.

Of course, Louis was a wonderful boyfriend, and Harry knew that even the lamest of gifts would make a smile light up his face, but Harry didn’t _want_ the lamest gift. He wanted a gift that Louis deserved. Something awe inspiring just like his Lou Bear.

That night, when he and Louis were laying on the couch together, Harry turned to him and nuzzled his ear until Louis squeaked and pushed him off.

“What are you looking forward to getting for Christmas?” Harry asked him, trying to be subtle. After all, a _normal, good_ boyfriend would have already gotten him a present.

Louis shrugged and cuddled into Harry. “Dunno, really. It’s not like I really need anything right now. Just excited to spend the time with our families, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Harry agreed, and inwardly cursed. His dumb selfless boyfriend. His dumb, perfect selfless boyfriend.

Louis’s birthday went over beautifully, of course, but Harry spent the whole day thinking about the present he didn’t have.

That night, while they were at Harry’s mum’s for dinner, Harry took a moment to visit his old room. He looked through his closet, all the clothes showing off his awful sixteen year old fashion sense. 

There, in the back of it, with a box of presents he had gotten and never used, was a hideous thing. Harry saw it and immediately decided it was perfect.

Come Christmas morning, Harry and Louis gathered in front of the tree. Louis had long ago said that their present buying should mostly be for family, because the two of them bought things for each other on the daily. So they got each other one present each. Harry handed over the box and hoped against hope that Louis liked it.

“Hazza, what…?” Louis pulled out the ridiculously decorated extra-wide jumper.

“It’s the get-along jumper,” Harry explained. “So that the next time we get in an argument, we have to wear it until we get along again. Mum always wanted to use it on Gemma and i but I hid it.”

Louis looked like he was about to die of laughter. “Strip,” he said seriously, already stripping his shirt.

“What?” Asked Harry, taken aback.

“We’re going to wear this for the rest of today,” Louis told him, excitement showing in his voice. “This is the best thing ever, Hazza. Think how uncomfortable we’re going to make my sisters.”


	24. Chapter 24

The sky outside is still dark, stars twinkling in the night. It’s the time of night where, if you were to get up and go to work, you would keep expecting to see the sun rise even though you know it’s only four and the sky won’t lighten for hours and hours yet.

Harry snuffles and rubs his eyes, still more asleep than awake. He can sense just enough light in front of his eyes to know that he’s facing the window, the moon shining down on them. He can also feel cold air seeping in through the window, and starts moving a little to try to get back under the blanket.

At his squirming, Louis reflexively tightens his arms around Harry. He always steals the blanket in the night, which Harry will never understand because as far as he can tell Louis spends the whole night with his arms wrapped tight around him. Yet here they are, Harry with a blanket covering only a bit of his torso and all of his body head being sucked up by Louis, who absorbs heat like nobody’s business and still complains that he’s not warm enough.

Eventually, Harry gives up on trying to gently move the blanket back in order to not wake Louis up. Somehow, Louis has managed to get it wrapped all around his body like a burrito and is clearly giving up none of it.

“Looouuu,” Harry whines softly, worming his way around in Louis’s arms until he’s facing him. “Loouu, wake up.”

Louis grumbles in his sleep and tucks his face into Harry’s shoulder.

“Nooo,” Harry whines. “Louis, I’m cold.”

“Cover up with a blanket,” Louis says quietly in his gruff morning voice, not opening his eyes.

“You’re all covered in it,” Harry complains. “Give it baaaack, Lou.”

Louis grumbles and pulls Harry closer to him. The bed is much too small for them and they couldn’t really get much closer if they tried. It’s Louis’s childhood bed, complete with his Star Wars bedspread (quite relevant now, though). “It’s ‘cause it’s cold in here,” Louis whines, burying himself deeper in the cocoon of Harry and blanket that he’s made.

“I know,” Harry whines back. “Which is why I want the blanket, come on.”

Louis doesn’t give him the blanket. Why do they only have one blanket? Instead, he just moves himself around until he’s, for the most part, laying on top of Harry. It’s, well, it’s a bit better but Harry’s feet are still terribly cold.

“You’re too small to be my blanket, Lou,” Harry tells him.

“Shut the fuck up,” Louis groans. “Why are you even awake?”

“Because I’m cold,” Harry pouts. He lays there in the darkness for a while, neither of them saying anything. “Also, because I think someone’s awake.”

They both listen intently in the quiet of the house. Sure enough, someone is definitely awake in the living room.

“Are they honestly already opening presents? It’s not even five, is it?”

“Merry Christmas, Lou.”

**Author's Note:**

> Visit me at [LondonFoginaCup"](londonfoginacup.tumblr.com) on tumblr, and reblog the [fic post](http://londonfoginacup.tumblr.com/post/158725956724/twenty-four-days-of-ficmas) if you like it!


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